VI - Peculiar, nonetheless mine
[Далёкая, но такая близкая]

The small group made way along the perfectly-laid stone path, random spears of bright green spring grass, almost barely discernible, poking through the stones. A very few crude beginnings of roses stuck out from the black soil: they looked healthy, but not beautiful as if in full bloom. At this time of year, all gardens in the spring looked somewhat lifeless and dry. Several fruit trees - apple, cherry, and plum - were planted beside the beds as if to stand guard for the old estate. Their bark was an awe-inspiring gnarled, charcoal black. However, if one was to look closely, small, delicate buds graced their bare branches and it seemed with one sudden tap the garden would come alive with a wave of bright, vibrant green. It would be such a beautiful sight! A kiss of paradise in an endless urban desert...

They took a step up one of the stairs of the gazebo. The small white bear gave his makeshift owner a disapproving stare. "The flowers are ugly..."

"Shut the hell up, you little pipsqueak!" She hastily whispered, giving the bear a little nudge on the side. Hell, if the bear wasn't her sister's, she'd kick its ass back across the Atlantic to carry it all out in peace!

Toris was deaf to the commotion behind him. His eyes became wide as they entered the structure and came out the other side. "We're almost there! I told you, it's very close…"

It was not so much a standard, well-structured flowerbed, but a small floral paradise. A wooden fence - not any taller than two feet - enclosed a small piece of land networked with a delightful but extremely effective irrigation system that was covered by a stretched, transparent tarp. Through the screen, scattered flowers adorned with tiny white bells could be seen.

"This is the Lily of the Valley. This year they bloomed a little later than usual, but still…" Toris knelt down and gently brushed his hand against the droplets of moisture that plagued the canvas. He lifted the tarp just a bit and turned to the girl beside him. "D-do you like it?"

"That's such a weird name to call a flower!" She brought her hands to her mouth to hold back a snicker and crouched down like a frog to get a better look. "Did you name it something like that? ...or maybe she…?"

"Ah, no, it's not me or Miss Anya. In Latin, 'Lily of the Valley' is translated just like that: 'Lily of the valleys.' Even the name sounds so abrupt and sudden, doesn't it?" He shook one of the plants slightly, the white flowers shook like real bells only they lacked the loud, melodic ringing.

"...They look so sad," She whispered, the blonde sliding two fingers down one of the little flowers, feeling the soft, damp petal underneath her soft pads. "Why do you keep such things? There's no daisies, or even tulips around…"

"W-well, that's not the case. They are beautiful in their own way. White is the color of purity and innocence. Here, the Lily of the Valley is one of the symbols of the awakening of nature; of springtime. Ms. Anya loves them precisely for the fact that they do not stand out… and also, for their lovely smell, which is often desired in perfumes." Toris said in deep thought, which was often the case whenever he worried. Thinking methodically and carefully helped him calm down, and it was his own little weakness.

Amelia stifled a laugh, plucking a lone petal from its stem. She glanced at it briefly as it rested on her finger, looking over the tiny little capillaries within the sheer white. What good was it to be a wallflower, to not stand out? If you have a voice, use it! If you want to change the world, do it without looking back! These were mottos she lived by.

Her eyes were boring and dull. "We are talking about the same Russia?" Extending her palm, she formed an "o" with her lips and blew the petal out of her care without a second thought.

"O-of course! I j-just wanted to show you our pride. These plants are on the verge of extinction, they are so rare, you'll unlikely see them anywhere else so..." The Baltic state rose from his knees and dusted the dirt off of his pants. He reached for his master's guest with an extended hand while muttering sheepishly. "I-It's time. I certainly hope this has put you in a good mood for spring."

"Mm, I guess it has," she took a firm hold of Toris' hand, pulling herself up with the help of her host's servant. Kumajirou soon followed, jumping on her back and throwing his furry white arms over her shoulders.

"C-Canada-san!" Toris exclaimed hurriedly as he kept a firm yet gentle hold of her hand. "I wait to.. give you this small gift." From behind his back, he pulled his left arm forward to display to her whatever he held tightly in his hand. It was a gently plucked stalk of a Lily of the Valley, adorned with many bunches of white bells.

"This is f-for you… Be careful, for they contain a strong poison…. E-excuse me! When I'm nervous I say such nonsense," he smiled nervously. "But you won't do it, right? Ahah..."

"'A strong poison'..." She repeated hesitantly. Her purple eyes, littered with small, impure specks of blue, followed the stem up past her fingers as she took a hold. Her eyelids lowered as she pressed her mouth against a bell in a modest kiss. Tiny droplets of morning dew compressed and transferred onto the guest's lower lip. Kumajirou followed her with inquiring eyes.

She simply just gave him a look - those subtle and delicate hands, red lips and bright amethyst eyes… so beautiful. He secretly admired her beauty every chance they met. So pure and innocent, he thought. Not hiding his admiration, and now disconnected from the world, Toris vaguely repeated his apology. "S-sorry…" At that moment, he collected himself just enough to take a glance at his watch. His eyes widened with a gasp. "C-Canada-san! We must go! We don't want to be late for lunch…"

"Lunch?" His guest's eyes brightened, pulling the flower from her lips without a second thought. "...You said lunch, right!?"

"Well, yes, I-"

Before he realized, the blonde was already halfway back at the estate, dragging her poor little bear along by a lone paw. He squealed a desperate "help!" as his owner attempted to outrun the persistent growling of her stomach.

"Wa-а! ...W-wait! Canada-saaan!" Toris, as if he could reach out and grab her, extended an arm as he gathered all of his energy to follow her without a second thought. He noticed, as she was preoccupied with finding a way to open the main doors, a loose bouquet of flowers peeking out from the corner of her blood-red satchel. He felt his heart skip a beat, if just for a moment, and he seized to run. Relieved to see that his guest was so quick and accepting of these flowers, he simply smiled, and proceeded up the stone stairs and to the front doors.

It was their first, and last, guest that would provide the flowers a second home.